“Did you ever miss me?”

Cal asked her suddenly.

“Sorry?” She looked around at him, pretending she hadn’t heard, trying to play for time. What kind of question was that?

“Since we split up, have you ever had a moment when you missed me?”

She hesitated. The truth was she had missed him a lot. There had been days when she was desperate to talk to him, to ask him things. Like why had this happened to them? Sometimes she’d missed him so badly she had lain in bed and ached for him. But she wouldn’t tell him that.

“No, I don’t think so.” She smiled airily at him. “Sorry if that upsets your ego.”

Cal shrugged. “I missed you,” he said softly.

Her Determined Husband
Kathryn Ross

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS a fact of life that when you were running late for an appointment the traffic lights were always on red and you could never find a parking space. Then, when you did find a space, some arrogant so-and-so stole it! Kirsten glared angrily at the man in the snazzy convertible Mercedes who had just blatantly snuck into her coveted spot.

He turned and their eyes connected, and in that brief instant Kirsten felt numb with shock. It was her ex-husband, Cal McCormick.

As she drove on past and the eye contact was severed she immediately doubted her senses. No! It couldn’t have been Cal, she tried to reassure herself. Cal wasn’t in Hollywood; he wasn’t even in America. He was still working in England, wasn’t he?

She glanced in her rear-view mirror and saw the man climb out of the car. He was tall, with a good physique and dark hair, but she was at a distance now and it was too hard to say if it was Cal or not.

Forgetting the fact that she was rushing for an important luncheon appointment with her agent, Kirsten swung her old car once more around the block and went back for another look.

But the red car was locked up by the time she got back and there was no sign of the handsome man in the pale grey suit.

There were a million good-looking guys in LA and that man wasn’t Cal, she told herself soothingly. A space became vacant further down the street and she drove into it with a shaky feeling of relief. This wasn’t the first time that she had thought she had glimpsed her ex-husband. It was two years since they had split up, but in the aftermath of their divorce she had imagined she had seen him on quite a few occasions…even whilst knowing full well that it couldn’t be him because Cal was thousands of miles away on another shore with another woman.

But she was over all that now, and definitely over Cal McCormick. And this was no day for her to go to pieces, she told herself firmly. Things were going right for her now. She had auditioned for a leading role in an up-and-coming movie and out of hundreds of applicants had got the part. Her contract was signed and today she was to meet her co-star, Jack Boyd, and her agent, Gerry Woods, for lunch. This was the day that her fortunes changed, her bank balance reverted to the black and her ex-husband was wiped clear off her memory bank for ever.

She ran a smoothing hand over her long blonde hair, glanced at herself in her mirror to reassure herself that she looked her best, and then, taking a deep breath, stepped out onto the sidewalk.

From his vantage point of the best table in the exclusive restaurant, Cal watched Kirsten walk down the sidewalk towards him. She hadn’t changed at all, he thought. Even viewed through a smoked-glass haze, she looked vibrantly fabulous. She was wearing a stylish white trouser suit that probably came from one of the designer boutiques in the town, and despite the fact that she was tall she wore incredibly high heels. Her thick blonde hair was loose and looked slightly windswept.

There were lots of good-looking blondes in Hollywood but Kirsten had something different about her. Maybe it was the fact that her hair was a natural colour of spun gold, maybe the fact that her figure was all her own as well, no silicone implants required for that slender, yet very shapely body. Or maybe it was just the quiet intelligence that shone from her eyes when she looked up. Whatever it was, she still had a style that held his attention. He hurriedly returned his gaze to the menu as she reached the doorway of the restaurant, before she could catch him watching her.

He heard her accent, clearly discernible, from the front reservation desk. Even though she had been living in the States from the age of eleven, the low husky voice still held the traces of her English accent. It brought back a flood of memories.

Then she stood next to his table and he could smell the scent of her perfume, warm, familiar, very evocative.

He stood up slowly and their eyes met for the second time that morning.

‘Hello, Kirsten,’ he smiled.

‘Cal…’ His name sounded uncomfortable on her lips and to say she looked shocked was putting it mildly. She glanced over at the waiter. ‘I think there has been some mistake,’ she said, sounding slightly breathless. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Gerry Woods; he made a table reservation for twelve-thirty?’ She looked past the waiter and around the restaurant, desperately searching for her agent. It was hard to see who was in the room because the tables were strategically placed for maximum privacy behind tall plants and exotic flower arrangements. The fact that she was in a blind panic didn’t help either.

‘This is Mr Woods’s table.’ The waiter pulled out a chair for her and waited politely for her to seat herself.

She looked back at the starched white tablecloth with its cut glasses and delicate orchid flower arrangement, then up into Cal’s eyes again.

‘Gerry has been unavoidably detained, but he should be here soon.’ Cal sounded nonchalantly at ease, as if their meeting was an everyday occurrence, when in fact they hadn’t seen each other for two years. Well, two years, one month and three weeks to be exact, she thought, hating herself for still carrying that useless information in her brain.

Cal sat back down and she was left with the decision of whether to sit with him, or to cause a scene and leave. Only because Gerry would be joining them soon, and she wanted to find out what was going on, she chose the former.

The waiter went through an elaborate routine of taking her napkin and shaking it out to place it over her knee, then he handed her a menu and distanced himself.

Her heart was thumping against her chest and she couldn’t bring herself to look Cal directly in the eye again. This was terrible…really terrible. She felt overwhelmed with an emotion that she couldn’t even begin to understand.

‘So how are you, Kirsten?’ Cal asked, reaching for the jug of water and pouring her a glass.

‘I’m OK…how are you?’ she managed politely after a moment. She forced herself to look at him again. He was thirty-eight, but if anything he looked even more handsome than when she had last seen him, his face still had that patrician, square-jawed, powerful attractiveness, and, although his dark, thick hair now had a few silver strands at the temples, they gave him a distinguished air.

She had almost forgotten how very blue his eyes were. They glimmered with amusement now, as if he knew how much effort it had taken her to sound courteous.

‘I’m not much different from when you saw me last,’ he replied easily. ‘But thanks for asking.’

How right he was, Kirsten thought in bewilderment. She had always thought that if she saw him again it would be like meeting a stranger. But it didn’t feel like that at all. Looking at him across this table felt disturbingly familiar; in fact it was as if someone had suddenly rolled back time and the last few years had disappeared.

It was a very odd sensation and Kirsten didn’t like it at all. This was the man who had broken her heart, ripped it out and roasted it, in fact, and she didn’t want to put time back. The road to recovery from Cal had been too long and painful to allow it to be smashed to pieces now.

‘Well, now we’ve got the pleasantries over, would you like a drink?’

I need a drink, Kirsten thought, preferably a large one. ‘What’s going on, Cal?’ she asked him, trying to gather her startled wits together. ‘What are you doing here?’

He frowned. ‘Didn’t Gerry tell you?’

‘Tell me what?’ She had a horrible sensation in the pit of her stomach as if she was on a fairground ride, being hauled up a steep incline with the uncertain knowledge of how huge the drop was on the other side.

‘That we are going to be working together.’

‘Sorry?’ She wondered if she had misheard him.

‘I’ve been offered the lead part in this new film you are signed up for.’

He watched the incredulity in her eyes. ‘Yes, it’s a bit ironic, isn’t it?’ he agreed. ‘We’ll be husband and wife once more…just on the silver screen this time, of course.’

‘This is some kind of joke, right?’ Her voice was very unsteady. ‘Gerry told me that this movie is being made by some company called Sugar Productions and Jack Boyd has been given the lead part.’

Cal shook his head. ‘The name of the production company is right. But I’ve got the lead part, not Jack.’

The fairground ride tipped over the edge and she was given a dizzying, terrifying glimpse down into an interminable abyss. Her finances were shaky, and she needed this job…but she couldn’t work closely with her ex-husband, especially for the length of time it took to make a movie! It was more than mere flesh and blood could stand.

Her mobile phone rang suddenly and unexpectedly, releasing Kirsten from her frozen state of immobility. She reached for her handbag, knocking over her glass of water in her haste.

A waiter materialised by her elbow to wipe up the flood as she pushed her chair back. ‘Sorry…’ She tried to smile apologetically at him as she pushed herself even further away and looked at her phone. The name ‘Gerry’ was flashing in green letters.

She pressed the connect button. ‘Hi, Gerry, where are you?’ Hidden behind the polite words were the more desperate ones, like, Where the hell are you? Come and bail me out of this mess you’ve got me into.

‘Stuck in traffic; Kirsten, I’m real sorry about this.’

Not as sorry as he was going to be, she thought grimly as she met Cal’s calm gaze across the table.

‘You didn’t tell me about the change of co-star.’ She lowered her tone even more, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

‘That’s because I didn’t know until a few hours ago.’

Why didn’t she believe him? Kirsten wondered suddenly.

‘Great news, isn’t it?’ Gerry continued blithely. ‘It’s a real coup for the studio. They can’t believe their luck…I mean, Cal is one of the biggest names in Hollywood, a fantastic actor, a real heart throb, it will boost the film’s ratings no end—’

Kirsten allowed him to prattle on and meanwhile there was this cold, churning sensation in the pit of her stomach. When her agent paused for breath she said very quickly, very coolly, ‘I’m sorry, Gerry, but this isn’t going to work.’

‘Why not?’ Gerry sounded genuinely perplexed.

‘Because he’s my ex-husband,’ she said succinctly, as if she was talking to someone who was quite mad.

She glanced across at Cal and saw the glint of mockery in his blue eyes now. But she was past caring what he thought; she just wanted out of this.

‘You’re not serious, Kirsten!’ Gerry laughed. ‘If everyone in Hollywood decided they couldn’t work together because they’d once had a relationship, nobody would be making any films!’

‘I don’t care.’ Her voice rose slightly and with difficulty she lowered it and forced herself to remain calm. ‘I don’t care what everyone else does—’

‘You’ve already signed the contract.’ Gerry started to sound impatient.

‘I signed, thinking I was acting alongside Jack—’

‘That doesn’t make a difference to the studio. If you renege on your contract they’ll sue us, Kirsten…it will cost fortunes. You’re due to start filming next week.’

Kirsten could hear a tremor of nerves underneath Gerry’s firm tone, but it was nothing compared to what was going on inside Kirsten. She had thought all her money worries were over when she signed this film contract. Now she felt like an animal caught in a trap, waiting for certain death.

‘Look, you go ahead and have lunch without me, talk things over with Cal. He’s a real nice guy and a professional. I’m sure you two can come to a good agreement about working alongside each other. I’ll ring you later.’

The phone went dead.

‘Problems?’ Cal asked innocently from the other side of the table.

Her eyes narrowed on him. She knew full well that he must have heard everything…and the bits he hadn’t heard he was probably able to fill in for himself.

‘Gerry is stuck in traffic. He says for us to go ahead and eat without him.’ She forced herself to remain civil, her mind rushing ahead, working on the problem. If she couldn’t get out of the film, maybe she could appeal to the better side of her ex’s nature and get him to stand down. After all, as Gerry had said, Cal was a big name in Hollywood; he could work anywhere. And possibly the idea of working with her wasn’t too pleasing to him either.

She moved closer to the table. ‘I’ll just have a mineral water, please?’ she asked the waiter with a smile as he finished tidying up the mess she had made. ‘And I’ll try not to knock it over this time. Sorry about that.’

At least to outward appearances she sounded as if she had pulled herself together again, Kirsten thought. She couldn’t let Cal know how traumatised she felt just sitting opposite him. He’d find that very amusing.

She stalled for time, putting her phone away in her bag. ‘So, when did you realise you were going to have to work alongside me on this film?’ she asked him, trying to sound casual.

‘I’d heard something vaguely, but only knew for definite this morning.’

‘I see.’ She glanced across at him. ‘And are you as delighted about the prospect as I am?’ There was an edge of sarcasm in her tone.

‘I don’t know,’ Cal retorted imperturbably. ‘How delighted are you?’

Her smile became overstretched. He knew damn well that she was fizzing. Was he deliberately trying to wind her up?

‘I didn’t even know you were back State-side.’ She tried a roundabout approach. Playing for time.

‘Yes, I got back about a month ago. I’m renting a house in Beverly Hills.’

‘Nice.’ Kirsten thought about the small apartment that she was sharing with her flatmate Chloe. It had two small bedrooms and a living room and a kitchen hardly big enough for three people to be in at the same time.

Cal seemed to have gone from strength to strength since they had divorced, whilst her career had been severely handicapped by her last agent. Robin Chandler had signed her up soon after she had split up with Cal. At the time she had been a successful singer with a string of hits in the American charts. Chandler had promised promotion and world tours, but what she’d got was an agent who took all her money and tied her up in legal jargon that made it impossible for her to continue her singing career for a full two years without lining his pockets even further.

All her money, even the generous divorce settlement Cal had insisted on making to her, had disappeared into the black hole that had been her time with Robin Chandler. She had sought legal advice, but in the end she had been in so much debt that she had decided to cut her losses and wait until the time limit on her contract with Chandler expired. Her career as a recording artist on hold, she had desperately needed to find other work, so she had switched agents and followed Gerry’s advice into the world of acting.

She was still surprised by her success in this field. Even though her talent as a musician had led her to stage school as a child, she had never envisaged herself becoming an actress.

Up until now she had only had supporting roles but each had added to her reputation as a fine actress. And now she had been offered the chance to move into the movies, and her first leading part, which promised more lucrative rewards and an opportunity to finally turn the corner from financial ruin towards more secure times.

‘How are your parents?’ Cal interrupted her thoughts.

She returned her attention to him, meeting his gaze steadily across the table, and the hope of more tranquil times ahead seemed uncertain again. Her mum and dad had loved Cal; he had charmed them almost as easily as he had charmed her. ‘They’re fine,’ she said tightly, and then found herself relenting slightly. ‘Well, actually Dad hasn’t been very well.’

‘What’s the matter with him?’

Kirsten stared across the table at him; he was a good actor, she thought, because he honestly looked as if he gave a damn. She shrugged, not about to go into details with him. ‘I don’t know; they’re running tests.’ Thinking about her dad put things in perspective for a moment. He was going into hospital for the day on Wednesday and she kept telling herself not to worry, that whatever was wrong would be fixed, but every now and then she couldn’t help her mind running anxiously over worst-case scenarios.

Cal heard the apprehension in her tone, saw the shadows in her green eyes, and for a moment he was strongly tempted to reach across the table and take her hand. But that would be a very big mistake, he told himself grimly.

‘Are they still living out near San Francisco?’ he asked instead.

‘Yes…and Dad’s still got his fishing boat.’ For the briefest second a smile lit her face, transforming it into radiant loveliness. He was reminded vividly of the first weekend she had taken him to meet her folks, how they’d taken the boat out on a clear summer afternoon.

Then as she met his gaze again it was as if the clouds settled over the green of the sea and her smile vanished.

‘Give them both my best wishes next time you’re speaking to them,’ Cal said.

She shrugged. She didn’t like to mention Cal’s name to her mum and dad, but she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of telling him that, of letting him know how much he’d hurt them as well.

The waiter put a small bottle of water down next to her. In the space of silence she forced herself to turn her attention to the present.

‘So what are we going to do about this film?’ she asked briskly.

‘We’re going to act in it, I presume.’

‘Don’t be facetious, Cal, it doesn’t help,’ she snapped. ‘And anyway,’ she added in a cooler, quieter voice, ‘I was hoping that I was going to act in the film and you were going to do the decent, gentlemanly thing and bow out.’

‘Why would I do that?’ He looked genuinely perplexed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of backing out. I’ve given my word—’

‘For all that’s worth,’ she couldn’t resist grating sarcastically and then immediately regretted the slip. She wasn’t going to get anywhere making remarks like that. ‘Anyway,’ she continued hurriedly, thinking maybe it would just be best to be straight with him, ‘as you probably gathered from my telephone call just now, I don’t want to work alongside you, Cal, it’s as simple as that.’

‘Then maybe you should be the one to back out,’ he said. ‘Because I’m not going anywhere. I’ve signed to do this film and I’m looking forward to it.’

He’d already signed the contract! Her heart lurched with fear. ‘Are you doing this to annoy me?’ she hissed, her control breaking, her eyes narrowing. ‘This film is my first big break in ages and you’re deliberately trying to sabotage it.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You should be thanking me, not asking me to leave. My name will make all the difference to the sales of the film. I’ve probably rescued it from life as a B-movie.’

‘You’re as modest as ever,’ she cut across him scathingly.

He smiled at her. ‘But you know what I’m saying is true. Look on the bright side—you might be nominated for an award, working alongside me.’

‘A purple heart for bravery, you mean? And you could probably get a gold medal in annoying me,’ she reflected pensively.

His lips twisted in a rueful grin. ‘Nothing personal,’ he told her with a glint of devilment in his blue gaze, and for the briefest second she saw him through the American public’s eyes.

It was no wonder they queued up for hours at the cinema to see him; he had a magnetic quality about him, an air of dangerous excitement as well as those undeniably fabulous looks. She had often wondered if he was so successful because he was a complete enigma, you couldn’t really pigeon-hole him anywhere. Although he was American through and through, he had been educated in Oxford, England, and he had worked for an English newspaper before returning home and getting a job as a sports correspondent. Writing fiction in his spare time, he had fallen into a lead role in Hollywood because of a script that he had written for them.

She had fallen for the whole dangerous package before he had made it into the big time. So in a way she had stolen a march on those fans; she knew exactly how they felt when they sat watching him in awe in the darkened cinema. She had been taken in as well.

In fact, the moment Kirsten had met Cal McCormick a kind of madness had descended upon her. Within a whirlwind period of four months they were married and then eleven months later filing for divorce.

Kirsten likened it to an illness, and afterwards referred to that period of her life as the time when she had ‘Calinitus’. He’d clouded her judgement, crept insidiously into her heart and had taken her over completely.

When he smiled with that teasing grin, as he did now, and a woman felt the full power of his looks, he could get away with anything. But not with her, she reminded herself; she had his measure. And if telling her that the movie would only do well because he was in it wasn’t a personal attack on her acting skills, she didn’t know what was, she thought furiously.

She picked up the menu, playing for time, to gather her thoughts sensibly. She wasn’t going to get anywhere losing her temper with him; she knew that from past experience.

‘How come you’re not concentrating on your singing career these days?’ Cal asked her suddenly. ‘You haven’t made a record for ages.’

Kirsten was surprised by the change of subject and wary of answering because she didn’t want to tell him what a dreadful mistake she had made with her last agent. ‘I just decided I needed a change, that’s all,’ she murmured evasively.

‘I never thought you would go into acting.’

‘Neither did I.’ She smiled for a moment. ‘But I changed my manager and Gerry suggested I audition for a role on Broadway. It was just a small cameo part, but I did well to get it. It was a tremendous challenge.’

At the time she hadn’t been at all sure about the move. She remembered flying to New York for the audition, wondering if she was wasting money that she could ill afford on plane tickets and hotels, but out of hundreds of hopefuls she had been selected.

That role had launched her new career in style. The show had been a major success and the critics had loved her. Although it had only been scheduled to run for four months, they had extended it to six. And, on her return to LA, it had opened doors for her into the acting world.

‘So the only reason you went into acting was because you wanted a challenge?’

Why was he continuing to question her? Kirsten wondered angrily. It was none of his business why she had turned away from her career as a recording artist. ‘Yes, something like that,’ she murmured. She was damned if she was going to tell him that because of her dodgy agent she’d had no choice but to go into acting.

The waiter interrupted them. He put an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne next to the table and placed two long-stemmed glasses between them.

‘What’s the champagne for?’ Kirsten eyed it apprehensively, as if it were a bomb waiting to go off.

‘I’ve no idea.’ Cal shrugged. ‘Rest assured I didn’t order it.’

‘With the compliments of Mr Gerry Woods,’ the waiter informed them both with a polite smile. ‘Would you like me to pour it now, sir?’ he asked into the silence.

‘No, thanks, I’ll pour it,’ Cal said.

As the waiter hovered, waiting for them to order their food, Kirsten hurriedly glanced down at the menu and ordered the first thing she saw.

Why was her agent sending them champagne? she wondered as they were left alone again. This was getting out of hand.

‘Look, Cal, I’m asking you nicely. Please tell the studio you won’t be available for this movie after all.’ She hoped there was no hint in her tone of the desperation she was suddenly feeling. She needed this part. It would be the first really decent money she had earned in ages, and she had worked very hard to get here. Stood in long queues and auditioned several times. By contrast Cal could walk into a part anywhere.

‘I’m sorry, Kirsten, but I can’t do that,’ he replied calmly. ‘I’ve told you, I’ve already signed the contract.’

She watched as he poured sparkling champagne into the flutes and felt helpless. She hated the feeling of not being in control; it made her angry. It brought back memories of her relationship with Cal.

‘Your agent is obviously very happy with the situation…so happy he’s sent champagne. He must know how this is going to do you nothing but favours. Trust me on this.’

‘I’d rather trust a barracuda not to bite,’ she retorted. ‘And for your information I don’t need any favours from you,’ she added quickly. ‘I’m doing very well on my own.’

Cal looked at her across the table. ‘I’m sure you are.’ The quiet way he said those words unnerved her slightly.

Made her wonder if he knew about Robin Chandler and the backlog of bills she was still working her way through.

She looked away. He couldn’t know about that. She had been very careful to tell no one, not even her parents…especially her parents; they would have worried themselves sick. The only people she had confided in were her flatmate, Chloe, and Jason. And they were her best friends, the souls of discretion.

‘And now you are going to do even better,’ he added firmly. ‘Look, Kirsten, this is business, pure and simple. There is nothing personal between us any longer. I don’t see why we should have any problem acting opposite each other. It’s just work.’ He shrugged. ‘I can’t for the life of me understand where you are coming from with this panic-stricken “please leave” routine.’

‘I’m not panic-stricken.’ She sat straighter in her chair.

‘So what’s the problem?’

She stared at him and tried to think of a suitable, sensible reply. How was it that Cal always made her feel as if she was the one in the wrong, that she was the unreasonable one? He had a real knack for wrong-footing her.

‘I’ve told you what the problem is.’ She tried to remain firm. ‘Do I have to spell it out in black and white? I don’t want you around.’

‘Do you know what I think?’ He leaned forward across the table and instinctively she leaned back warily.

‘I think you are frightened of me.’

‘Oh, please! Why the hell should I be frightened of you?’ she scoffed.

‘I don’t know, maybe my manly presence upsets you.’

She stared at him and saw the twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes. ‘You always did have a warped sense of humour,’ she said tautly. ‘And for your information your manly presence doesn’t cause me a second thought.’

‘That’s not what you used to say.’ His voice was deep and husky and disturbingly sexy. It disturbed a cauldron of emotion that Kirsten very definitely didn’t want stirring.

Kirsten had never been so glad to see a waiter approach in all her life. She looked down at the plate of food that he put before her and tried not to think about Cal’s words. But he was right, of course; there had been a time when he had only to look at her to turn her on.

‘Gerry seems a decent kind of guy,’ Cal continued as he liberally sprinkled his steak with salt.

‘He’s OK.’

‘Better than that other agent you went to after we split up. What was his name…Chandler?’

Kirsten felt her blood pressure rising. ‘Chandler was all right,’ she lied.

‘Really? I heard that a few people in town got their fingers badly burnt by him, and that you did well to get out when you did.’

Trouble was she hadn’t got out soon enough, Kirsten thought as she pushed her food around the plate.

When she said nothing he shrugged. ‘But I could have heard wrong. I’ve been working out of the country for two years, so what would I know.’

‘Yes, what would you know?’ Her voice grated roughly. She hoped that Cal would never find out what an idiot she had been to trust Chandler. She felt foolish enough.

‘I still think you should have gone to that guy who handled Maeve.’

Hasn’t everyone handled Maeve? Kirsten wanted to ask derisively, but bit down on her lip.

‘Maeve is going from strength to strength now.’

The last thing Kirsten wanted to hear was how well Maeve was doing. It inflamed her senses to even think about that woman. ‘Yes, well, Maeve married a powerful director,’ Kirsten couldn’t help remarking tersely. ‘It boils down to the same old adage, doesn’t it…it’s not what you know but who you know that counts? Personally I’d rather stand on my own two feet any day than have to marry for my career.’

‘Well, maybe you’ve never been that hungry,’ Cal said quietly.

‘And Maeve has?’ Kirsten’s tone was brittle.

‘I was talking about being hungry for success…but, seeing as you are asking, yes, Maeve has had tough times.’

A shaft of pain hit through Kirsten. He was still sticking up for Maeve, still in love with her after all this time. She’d have thought that he might have grown tired of waiting in the sidelines for that woman to get a divorce. But it seemed not; the situation must suit them both.

Kirsten had always known that there were people who preferred the thrill of the chase, the illicit affair rather than commitment, but it had come as something of a shock to find that she was married to one of those people. Cal had fooled her totally.

Originally she had felt sorry for Maeve’s husband, Brian; he was a lot older than she was. But she had heard a whisper since that Brian had indulged in his share of affairs himself. Well, good luck to them all, Kirsten thought angrily. It certainly didn’t suit her tastes. She was glad she had walked away from it.

‘Tell me, what part did Maeve play in this film you’ve just finished making in England? Was she the serving wench, or the gold-digger?’

‘You haven’t lost your sense of humour anyway.’ He reached across and refilled her glass.

‘Why are you still so angry with me, Kirsten?’ he asked suddenly, with that quiet, disarming directness that always unnerved her. ‘You divorced me, if you remember, not the other way around.’

Was he serious? She wanted to scream at him in that second. The divorce had been a formality. OK, in a rare flash of gentlemanly behaviour he’d allowed her to file for it. But what choice had she had?

She stared at him, her green eyes shimmering with a kind of mutant dislike. What did he expect? she wondered. After the way he had treated her, what the hell did he expect?

She reached for her champagne. ‘I’m not angry,’ she said coldly. ‘That would mean I gave a damn.’

The champagne left a bitter taste in her mouth, which was strange; champagne had never done that before.

‘You know, Kirsten we were both under a lot of strain two years ago. I don’t think either of us was thinking very clearly.’

The gentleness of his tone made her stomach twist in knots.

‘No couple should ever have to go through what we went through.’

She looked down at her hands and tried to close her ears and her mind to the soft words. If he mentioned the unmentionable she would leave, she told herself. She’d just get up and walk out.

‘When I got to England I tried to ring you several times.’ He changed tack. ‘But you never took my calls.’

‘What was the point?’ She looked up at him, relieved that he wasn’t going to delve into the darker area of their break-up. ‘The day you left our marriage was over.’

She saw the flash of annoyance in his eyes and found herself feeling pleased. Pleased that she could inflict just a tiny proportion of the hurt she had felt back on him. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to have this conversation,’ she told him firmly. ‘I don’t even want to be here.’

‘So I gathered.’ His tone was dry. ‘But we’ve got a lot of filming…a lot of work to get through together. I reckon we could do with calling a truce for a while, don’t you?’

She hesitated.

‘We can’t change the past. We can only go forward and learn from it.’

He sounded so sensible, so mature. She knew he was right, but she couldn’t forgive and forget.

‘What do you say?’ he asked. ‘Shall we put our personal differences aside and work smoothly together?’

What choice did she have? she asked herself dismally. She couldn’t get out of working on the film and he obviously wasn’t going to do the decent thing and walk away from his part in it. So the only thing she could do was to try and at least tolerate his presence; otherwise the next few months were going to be hell. She shrugged. ‘I don’t want to work with you, but I’ve already signed the contract.’

‘So that’s a yes, then?’ he asked sardonically.

‘It’s an I’ll try,’ she said huskily, the words sticking in her throat.

‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll look forward to working with you, Kirsten. I’ve read the reviews about your performance on Broadway. They say you’ve got talent.’

‘You don’t need to try to flatter me, Cal,’ she murmured. ‘A healthy respect between us will suffice.’

He raised his champagne glass. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

She didn’t join him in the toast.

‘Would you like a coffee?’ he asked as she straightened her cutlery on the plate of untouched food.

‘No. I’d like to go,’ she said.

He didn’t argue.

She watched as he summoned a waiter to ask for the bill.

He was probably happy now, thinking that everything was smoothed out between them, thinking that Cal the charmer was victorious again and that they could sweep the past tidily away out of sight. Work could go ahead unimpeded, and that was all Cal really cared about, she thought angrily.

‘So, I’ll see you next week on set,’ he said as she got to her feet.

‘Yes, see you next week.’ She kept her voice light with difficulty. She could be as businesslike as him, she told herself confidently. Cal the charmer would never triumph over her again.

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU know I’ve always loved you.’

Kirsten’s voice sounded stiff and unnatural even to her own ears. She glanced down at the script on the kitchen table, and read the line again, but it didn’t sound any better; in fact, it sounded worse.

‘Are you still working on that one line?’ Her flatmate Chloe came in and grinned at her with genuine amusement.

‘This is no laughing matter, Chloe.’ Kirsten glanced at the kitchen clock. ‘I’ve got to leave for the studio in five minutes and I’m still no closer to getting a handle on this part.’

‘You’ll be OK once you get on set. It’s just first-day nerves.’

‘Do you think?’ Kirsten wanted to believe that, but honestly she had never felt as nervous as this before.

‘I know so,’ Chloe smiled. ‘But I think you’d better have a look at this before you leave.’ She slipped a glossy magazine down on top of Kirsten’s script.

‘Are you still buying these gossip rags…?’ Kirsten’s voice trailed off as she looked down and saw a picture of herself and Cal leaving Charlie’s restaurant after their lunch together last week.

The headline read, Is Hollywood heartthrob Cal McCormick getting back together again with his ex-wife?

Kirsten tore her eyes away from the article without reading it. ‘Who the hell took that photograph?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see any reporters outside that restaurant.’

‘Well, you know what they’re like, they were probably hiding up a tree.’ Chloe grinned. ‘Do you want me to read it to you while you get ready?’

‘No, I do not.’ Kirsten pushed it away. ‘I’m ready to go anyway. Hell, I hope my mother hasn’t read that!’

‘Kirsten, half of Hollywood has probably read it. That’s why I thought I’d better show it to you now before you leave. In case anybody says anything.’

‘Thanks, I think.’ Kirsten snatched up her script and her car keys. ‘On that happy note, I had better go,’ she said, sliding dark sunglasses down over her face.

It was only a fifteen-minute drive to the studios. Kirsten flashed her pass to the man on the gate and drove onto the lot with a feeling of doom firmly settled in her stomach. Noticing that the car in the reserved space next to hers had Cal’s name on it didn’t help. He’d probably been here since six this morning, and knew his lines backwards and inside out.

After the fierce heat of the Californian sun it was dark and cool inside the studios. Kirsten made her way to her dressing room and found that the girls from Wardrobe and Hairdressing were already in there.

‘Morning, everyone.’ She tried to smile cheerfully, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, then she noticed the blue negligee hanging alone on the rails. ‘What’s that?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘That’s your costume.’

‘I thought we were doing an outdoor scene today?’

‘Change of plan.’ Mel, the hairdresser, smiled. ‘They’re shooting a bedroom scene instead.’

Kirsten tried to keep her smile firmly in place but she could feel it slipping. This was all she needed on her first morning.

Over an hour later, when Kirsten was left alone in her dressing room, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried to persuade herself that a bedroom scene wasn’t such a big deal.

Luckily The Love Child was a light-hearted romantic comedy and the bedroom scenes weren’t too steamy. There was no full nudity, just a lot of provocative kissing and canoodling between her and Cal, who played the part of Jonathan, her partner.

‘But you’re just acting a part,’ Kirsten told her reflection sternly. ‘You’re Helen, not Kirsten, you don’t even look like Kirsten any more.’

It was true that after her session in Hair and Make-up she did look different. Her hair was loose and wilder than usual; it tumbled in a riot of glossy waves over her shoulders. She was wearing a lot of make-up that had been skilfully applied to give her a natural, fresh-faced look, covering the fact that she hadn’t slept well last night. And the sexily provocative full-length blue negligee was something that Kirsten would never have chosen to wear in a million years; it was far too revealing.

‘You can do this,’ she told herself again. The words rang hollowly inside her.

What on earth was the matter with her? she wondered. She had done a bedroom scene in a TV drama last year and hadn’t thought twice about it. But then she had been acting alongside Jason Giles and Jason was a good friend. He’d made her laugh on set and it had all been very relaxed.

She thought about Jason fondly for a moment. They’d first met at a party in Hollywood when she and Cal had still been together. Then by coincidence they had been working on the same show on Broadway in New York and the same TV drama last year. His friendship had helped her through some difficult times in her life. She still saw him regularly; in fact, they were going to a première together at the weekend.

What she needed to do was think about this bedroom scene in the same relaxed way as the one with Jason last year. Why was she finding it so difficult to get into her character?

A picture of Cal’s teasing grin and blue eyes rose in her mind and she felt suddenly sick with nerves again.

Maybe some meditation would help, she thought desperately. Chloe swore by meditation, and she had shown Kirsten how to use it as a method of unwinding.

She glanced at her watch. She had ten minutes before she needed to be on set. Quickly she sat down on the floor and crossed her legs in the lotus position, then, putting her thumb and forefinger together, she closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind and slow her breathing.

That was how Cal found her ten minutes later, sitting in the cramped, confined space between the dressing table and the clothes rails, humming softly under her breath. It was obvious she hadn’t heard him enter the room because she didn’t move or open her eyes.

He took the opportunity to watch her unobserved for a few seconds. She looked very young, probably about twenty-two or-three, yet he knew for a fact that she was thirty-one. She also looked incredibly sexy in the blue negligee. It dipped very provocatively over the full, creamy curve of her breasts and showed the slender lines of her body to perfection.

For a moment he found himself remembering when Kirsten had been his wife. Remembering her warmth and her passion and the hot nights when they had lain entwined in each other’s arms, desire and need raging out of control.

He moved further into the room and her eyes flicked wide open in shocked surprise. ‘What are you doing in here?’ she demanded angrily. ‘How dare you come in without knocking?’

‘I did knock and I thought I heard you say come in.’

‘Well, I didn’t!’ Her eyes moved over him. He was wearing a dark suit that sat well on his broad shoulders and he looked disturbingly handsome, too handsome for any woman’s peace of mind.

But, as her grandma in Yorkshire would have said, handsome is as handsome does…or something along those lines. She tried to keep that fact in mind as she met his amused gaze.

‘If you don’t mind my asking, what the heck are you doing down there on the floor?’ he drawled laconically.

‘I was meditating. Not that it’s any of your business.’

‘I see.’ His lips twitched in amusement. ‘Is it some new acting technique?’

‘It’s to help me relax,’ she said tightly. ‘What do you want, Cal? Or have you just come in here to insult me?’ She ignored his helping hand as she got to her feet.

‘I’d never insult you, Kirsten,’ he said softly, his eye drifting down over the curves of her figure.

Conscious suddenly of her scanty attire, she reached for the silk dressing gown that matched her nightdress and threw it on.

‘I just wanted to ask if you’re OK with this sex scene we’re going to do this morning?’

‘Sex scene?’ She gathered the robe around herself like a shield, and at the same time she felt her throat tighten in alarm. ‘It isn’t a sex scene, Cal.’

‘We are about to get into bed together and your body is going to be pressed tightly against mine as we kiss…amongst other things.’ His voice lowered huskily, his eyes sparked with humour. ‘So what would you like me to call it?’

She tried not to blush or look in the slightest bit uncomfortable. ‘What do you mean…amongst what other things?’ she asked and despite her best efforts she knew she sounded rattled. ‘It’s a bedroom scene, Cal; sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no sex in the film at all.’

‘Isn’t there?’ He frowned. ‘That’s disappointing. And it’s not what our esteemed director Theodore Tradaski was telling me a few moments ago.’

Kirsten tried to remain calm. He was just winding her up. ‘It’s one kiss, Cal, and I shall have to grit my teeth in order to bear even that much.’

To Kirsten’s consternation, Cal didn’t seem to be put out by her words. ‘Good! I like a challenge to my acting skills. We’ll see how long you manage to resist my charms, then, shall we?’

‘What does that mean?’ Her eyes narrowed warily.

‘I think you know what it means,’ he murmured. ‘You pretend to grit your teeth and hate me and I’ll do what I was always good at and turn you on.’

‘You are insufferable sometimes, do you know that?’ she told him heatedly, trying not to look as mortified by his crass remarks as she felt.

‘Only sometimes?’ he asked in mock disappointment.

Someone knocked on the door behind him. ‘A bouquet of flowers has arrived for you, Kirsten,’ a voice called cheerfully.

Cal turned and stepped out of the door. One of the stage-hands was outside; she was practically hidden behind an enormous bouquet of red roses.

‘Oh, Mr McCormick, I didn’t realise you were in here,’ she gushed, her voice filled with a kind of reverence that made Kirsten feel nauseous.

‘It’s OK, I was just leaving.’ Cal’s eyes flicked over the bouquet. ‘Who are the flowers from?’ he asked casually.

Much to Kirsten’s consternation, the woman opened the card that accompanied the flowers. ‘They’re from Jason Giles.’ she told him eagerly. ‘The message reads…’

Kirsten started to move to take the flowers away from her but she wasn’t quick enough.

‘…“Break a leg, Kirsty, I know you’ll be terrific. I look forward to our date on Saturday at the première.”’ The woman smiled up at Cal. ‘Oh, and he’s put some little kisses on the bottom.’

‘Excuse me!’ Kirsten whipped the bouquet from the stunned woman’s hands. ‘That’s a private card!’

‘Oh, sorry!’ The woman pulled a face and then caught Cal’s eye and blushed and grinned at him in a conspiring way.

As the woman bustled back down the corridor—probably to tell the whole of the set what was written on her flowers, Kirsten thought in annoyance—Cal lingered in the doorway. ‘Little kisses on the bottom?’ he drawled mockingly.

‘That card was none of your business—’

‘I can’t believe that Jason Giles is still hanging hopefully around you,’ Cal continued with a frown. ‘Why don’t you put him out of his misery and get rid of him?’

‘Because I don’t want to get rid of him,’ she told him tersely. ‘Jason and I are very close.’

‘Really?’ He gave her a very disdainful look.

‘Yes…really.’ She supposed she was exaggerating. Jason was just a friend. But she did value his friendship; it had helped keep her together after her divorce.

‘So how long has he been giving you these little kisses on the bottom, then?’ Cal drawled wryly. ‘Did it start on Broadway or as soon as I vacated the marital home?’

‘Don’t judge everyone by your own low standards,’ she told him heatedly.

‘Oh, come on, Kirsten! From what I’ve heard, the sheets had barely cooled on our bed before he was around knocking on your door.’

‘Jason came around to offer his moral support. He’s a wonderful person and I resent the distasteful implications in that statement.’

‘You’re certainly very protective of him. You must have it bad.’

‘Go to hell, Cal.’ She slammed the door shut.

It was only when the door closed that it suddenly dawned on Kirsten that Cal was fully dressed in his suit. They were supposed to be shooting a bedroom scene in a few minutes, so how come she was the only one dressed for bed? She glanced again at her watch. He should at least be wandering around in a dressing gown by now.

Maybe he was such a big star now that he didn’t care if he was late on set? Maybe he intended to keep them all waiting? She frowned; that didn’t sound like the Cal she remembered. Back in the days when they had been married, he had always had a thing about being punctual, and used to hate it if she was even a couple of minutes late for anything. Of course, he hadn’t been such a phenomenally big star back then—moderately successful…but nothing more. Maybe all this mega-stardom had gone to his head.

Well, if he thought she was going to stand around kicking her heels in this scanty costume he had another thought coming. Kirsten took her time and found a vase and water for her flowers, then sat for a while in the warmth of her dressing room.

She found herself thinking about Cal’s taunting gibe. ‘You pretend to grit your teeth and hate me and I’ll do what I was always good at and turn you on.’

In his dreams, she told herself staunchly. Then frowned. Well, maybe once upon a time he had very definitely been able to turn her on, she had to admit that if only to herself, but those days were long gone. When his lips touched hers now she would hate it.

She looked at her watch again and apprehensively she got to her feet. She supposed she had better not push her luck too far. She didn’t want the director tearing her off a strip on the first day of filming. Theodore was supposed to be a brilliant director, but he had an unfortunate reputation for losing his temper.

When she appeared on set she half expected them all to be waiting for her, but there was some kind of altercation going on at the other side of the studio between the electricians and Theodore and no one seemed to notice her amidst the chaos.

There were teams of people still moving furniture around on the set. Picking her way carefully across electric cables, she stood in the shadows for a moment and watched. It looked as if they weren’t going to start filming yet for at least another hour.

A spotlight was thrown on, and a huge double bed with a gothic wrought-iron headboard was illuminated in its bright glare.

‘The scene of the battlefield.’ Cal’s sardonic tone resounded suddenly in her ear, making her gaze swing away from the double bed in shock.

‘Crikey Cal! Don’t creep up on me like that,’ she said crossly. ‘You nearly made me jump out of my skin.’

‘Your nerves must be bad. What were you thinking about?’ He smiled. ‘Don’t tell me you were daydreaming about our romantic scene together? It will be just like the old days.’

‘A horror story, you mean?’ she muttered. ‘Why aren’t you ready to get into bed with me?’ she asked with a frown as she noticed he was still dressed in his suit.

‘Kirsty, I’m always ready to get into bed with you,’ he drawled sardonically.

‘You know what I mean, Cal.’ She shot him a warning look. ‘I’m here in costume, ready to shoot the scene; you look as if you’re still wearing your own clothes.’

‘No…the suit is courtesy of Wardrobe. This is not something I’d have chosen to wear.’

It looked suspiciously like one of his suits to her. ‘But shouldn’t you be…in a state of undress?’

Cal’s lips twitched. ‘I don’t think Theo is going to shoot the scene as it was first written.’

‘What’s he going to do?’ Kirsten asked in consternation as she remembered his gibes earlier about a sex scene.

Cal shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He’s the director.’

The possibility of a more intimate love scene being shot made her shiver violently. ‘But I’ve learnt all my lines; he can’t change things at this late time—’

‘Theodore is running the show, Kirsten, he can do pretty much anything he likes.’ Cal reached and straightened her dressing gown over her shoulder, bringing her attention to the fact that it had slipped.

The gentle touch of his hand against her bare arm made her shiver again. Suddenly she was very aware of how close he was standing to her, the gleam in his eye as he looked down at her. She started to feel breathless as she looked up at him. Nervously she moistened her lips as she felt his gaze linger on their softness. Her heart was pumping heavily against her chest.

She found herself remembering the way he used to kiss her, the heat of his lips and his hands against her body. She couldn’t get into bed and pretend to make love with him, she just couldn’t!

‘You’re not really nervous, are you, Kirsten?’ he asked her suddenly, his voice gentle.

‘No, of course not. Why would I be nervous?’ Her voice was higher than it should have been. Hell, this was making a mockery of all her stern words about how strong she was, how his kiss wouldn’t have any effect on her. He only had to brush his hand against her arm and she was in panic mode.

‘Shall we run through our lines while we’re waiting?’ he asked her suddenly.

‘No!’ Kirsten forced herself to move back from him. ‘What’s the point if Theo is changing the script already?’

‘Maybe you’re right.’ Cal glanced past her. ‘Here’s the man himself, so we’re about to find out.’

Theodore was a tall man of about fifty. He had wiry dark hair and eyes that were so dark and intense they could drill holes in you with just a glance. Kirsten didn’t really know him; she had only met him a couple of times. But she had heard about his fearsome reputation for flying into rages.

He looked as if he was living up to his reputation today; his face was red with anger and he was muttering something under his breath.

‘Theo, what’s the problem?’ Cal asked him cheerfully as he walked up to them.

Theo looked almost murderous for a moment, and then muttered in his broken English accent, ‘The men…the technicians have made an error. The lighting is not right.’

‘So how long before we start filming this scene?’ Kirsten asked, hoping she’d got time for a coffee.

‘We’ll run through it now.’ Theo waved them towards the set. ‘You sit on the bed, Kirsten; we’ll go over the new lines.’

As she did as she was told Kirsten tried to ignore the way her heart was thudding unevenly against her chest.

Someone shoved a piece of paper into her hand and she tried to concentrate on the new lines that had been typed out for her.

You know I’ve always loved you, but this is impossible.

It was ironic that the line she had been struggling with was the first line they wanted her to deliver. She glared at it, willing herself to be calm, to get into character.

‘OK—from the top.’ Theo nodded over at Cal.

Kirsten watched him come into the room, walk over to the dressing table and deliver his lines perfectly. He was always such a damn perfectionist, she thought, so smugly self-assured. But she had to admit he was a skilful actor; he looked very much at home and at ease…and he also looked very good in that suit, she thought hazily; he was a very handsome man.

She suddenly realised that there was silence and everyone was waiting for her to speak.

‘Sorry!’ She glanced down at her sheet of paper, pulled herself very sharply together and delivered her lines.

‘You know I’ve always loved you, but this is impossible.’

‘Nothing is impossible, honey, if we just pull together.’ Cal came and sat down next to her on the bed.

His thigh was touching against hers; she could feel the heat of him burning through the delicate material of her nightdress. Suddenly she was reminded very forcibly of a night when Cal had come home and sat next to her like this and said words not dissimilar. Her mind blurred on the words she had to say next; her throat seemed to close over.

She heard Cal prompting her softly under his breath. ‘I know we’ll work this out…’

‘I know we’ll work this out,’ she repeated.

Then he leaned closer, his lips coming within centimetres of hers. Her heart was beating so fiercely she felt sure he’d be able to hear it. She looked upwards into the vivid blue of his eyes and felt as if she was drowning. Abruptly she pulled away before he could touch her.

‘How was that?’ She looked wildly around for Theo. He was standing shaking his head, looking very annoyed. For an awful moment she thought he was about to tear into her, but to her relief she found he was looking beyond her at one of the technicians.

‘Yes…all right.’ He waved a hand dismissively. ‘Go and get a coffee or something while I sort these lights out.’

Kirsten felt as if she’d had a reprieve from a death sentence.

‘You OK?’ Cal asked her as they walked together off the set.

‘Of course I’m OK; why wouldn’t I be?’ she said defensively.

‘I don’t know…you just seemed on edge. You look very pale as well.’ His eyes moved over her face with a kind of tender concern that tugged at her heartstrings.

‘Well, I’m fine.’ They stopped next to the coffee machine and she watched as he put a paper cup under the water.

‘How’s your dad?’ he asked her suddenly.

‘He’s had the second lot of tests, we’re just waiting for the results.’ She took the hot coffee from him, noting that he’d remembered she drank it black with no sugar.

‘If there’s anything I can do, you’ll let me know?’

‘There’s nothing any of us can do except wait.’ Her voice held a faint tremor. How was it he could upset her more when he was being kind than when he was being infuriating? she wondered.

She looked down at her coffee and remembered a time when he had been wonderful to her…when they’d been happy. She frowned suddenly. She couldn’t start thinking like that—it was a very slippery slope.

‘Hell, this is awful coffee, almost as bad as the stuff you used to make,’ Cal muttered, pulling a face.

‘There’s nothing wrong with the coffee I make,’ she replied indignantly.

Cal smiled. ‘You always made lousy coffee,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t you remember your breakfast specialty…burnt coffee?’

She tried very hard not to smile at that memory. He was talking about the time during their first few days of marriage when she had put a coffee pot on the stove to keep warm and then got distracted…by him, as she recalled. She had to admit the coffee had tasted awful, but she had been too much in love at the time to care. Her eyes narrowed on him. ‘No, I don’t recall that.’

Behind them on set, Theo was doing a lot of shouting and arm waving. Kirsten turned to watch him, glad of the distraction.

‘Where is Theo originally from?’ she asked Cal as he also turned to watch what was going on.

‘I don’t know. I think he’s part-Russian, part-Greek, apparently he speaks both languages fluently.’

‘He’s a bit fearsome, isn’t he?’ Kirsten reflected. ‘But then, I’ve heard he’s a genius and I suppose a lot of brilliant people are a bit eccentric.’

Cal smiled, but he didn’t have time to answer because Theo had left the set and was marching towards them. ‘We’ll have to shoot another scene,’ he said angrily. ‘Nothing is right on there…nothing. And time is money.’

He stopped next to them, raking a hand through his hair with an air of absolute distraction. ‘Come into my office, will you?’ he ordered. ‘There are a few things we need to talk about.’ Then he marched on ahead of them towards a door at the end of the corridor.

Kirsten caught Cal’s eye. ‘What do you think he wants to talk to us about?’ she whispered.

Cal gave a quizzical shrug and then grinned at her. Despite herself, she grinned back at him, then pulled herself up. What was she doing? Cal was not her friend and he was definitely not a co-conspirator. Turning away, she followed Theo down the hall.

Theo’s office was tiny, almost like a broom cupboard. There was just room for his desk, two chairs and a filing cabinet. Cal stood just inside the door while Kirsten took the vacant chair opposite the director.

‘OK…I just want to run through the details of filming next week.’ Theo was rifling through the untidy piles of paper on his desk as he spoke. ‘You know we are transferring to San Francisco; the locations manager has found a house that we will use for filming.’

Kirsten settled back into her chair, feeling a little more relaxed now that it was apparent Theo wasn’t going to talk about adding sex scenes to the film. She knew all about the move to San Francisco; she’d been told when she accepted the part.

‘Ah…here we are.’ Theo found a piece of paper and pushed it towards her. ‘That’s just a rough schedule of the scenes we will be working on day by day.’

Kirsten glanced down at the paper, wondering how accurate it would be when the scene they were supposed to be working on today had been changed twice already.

‘The studio will be providing accommodation for you in San Francisco, so you don’t need to worry about that. My assistant will give you the details at the end of the week when she issues you with your flight tickets.’

There was silence and, thinking the meeting was now at a close, Kirsten started to get up.

‘One last thing.’ Kirsten sat back down as Theo started to rifle through the papers again. ‘The PR people have been in contact with me this morning. They brought this to my attention.’

To Kirsten’s horror, Theo brought out a magazine from the depths of the chaos…the same magazine that Chloe had been at pains to show her this morning.

Theo slid it across the table; it was open at the picture of her and Cal leaving Charlie’s restaurant.

‘Let me tell you right now that there is absolutely no truth in that article whatsoever.’ Kirsten sat forward on her chair and looked over at Cal. ‘It’s complete rubbish…isn’t it, Cal?’

‘What is it?’ Cal reached over her and picked up the magazine. ‘Nice picture of you, Kirsten,’ he murmured lazily. ‘You’re very photogenic, you know.’

‘Never mind that. Will you please tell Theo that the article is rubbish? We were just having lunch—’

‘I can’t think why Theo would be interested.’ Cal put the magazine down.

‘I’m not,’ Theo replied. ‘It’s the PR people that want me to draw it to your attention. They like this kind of thing…it will help sell the film. Sue Williams says she wants to come down to talk about it with you. Set up some interviews. I think she wants to do that in San Francisco—’

‘Sue Williams?’ Kirsten shook her head. ‘Who—?’

‘She’s in charge of the PR department. Anyway…’ Theo ruffled through the papers on his desk again ‘…they’ve asked me to tell you to play up this angle…this question…that there might be a rekindling of your romance. The publicity will be good; our film will keep getting a plug. Everyone will be happy.’

‘Well, I’m not happy,’ Kirsten said quickly. ‘In fact, I’m furious. There is no truth in that story. Cal and I are not getting back together—’

‘It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not,’ Theo said patiently. ‘It’s just a publicity stunt. If you’ve got any complaints, take it up with Sue…she should be dealing with this, not me. In the meantime they want you and Cal to attend a première together.’ He reached under the papers and drew out an envelope. ‘Here we are. It’s on Saturday night. The studio have asked that you pick Kirsten up at around seven-thirty, Cal, and they want you to attend the party after the film and then take Kirsten home about midnight—’

‘And do we have to go to bed together as well?’ Kirsten asked scathingly. ‘Cocoa at twelve-fifteen and satin pyjamas off by twelve-thirty?’

Theo’s eyebrows rose. ‘They haven’t made any suggestions as to what happens after midnight—’

‘I think that’s when Kirsten turns into a pumpkin,’ Cal put in drolly.

Kirsten shot him a look of annoyance. ‘Well, at least I’m not going to turn into a rat like you—’

‘Now, now!’ Theo interjected warningly. ‘We must have a good working relationship here.’

Kirsten shook her head angrily. ‘Work is here at the studio; this is encroaching on my private life. Besides, I’m already going to that première, but I’m attending with Jason Giles.’

Theo shrugged. ‘That’s up to you. But the people upstairs won’t be happy…there’s a lot of money riding on this film and they will expect you to be co-operative.’

The implied threat hung heavily in the air. Kirsten stared at Theo. Did he mean if she was difficult that the studio would just refuse to work with her in the future?

‘But this isn’t right…’ Kirsten looked around at Cal, hoping that he might support her. ‘We are not going to do this, are we, Cal?’

He met her eyes steadily and shrugged. ‘I’ve had to do worse things for PR. I’ve no real objection to posing for a few photographs or ferrying you backwards and forwards to a première. I draw the line at the cocoa, though…I hate cocoa.’

Kirsten’s eyes glittered a bright, intense green. She might have known that he wouldn’t back her up.

‘OK, that’s settled.’ Theo got up from his desk and put an envelope into Cal’s hand. ‘That’s your invitations for Saturday. Let’s get back to work now.’

Theo strode out of the room, leaving Kirsten staring at Cal with ill-disguised fury. ‘What does he mean…that’s settled? I haven’t agreed to anything.’

‘It’s not really a big deal. You were going to go to that première anyway.’ Cal shrugged.

‘Yes, with Jason—’

‘I’m sure Jason will get over the disappointment,’ Cal said wryly. ‘But it doesn’t sound like the studio will. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty Saturday.’ He turned to leave and then looked back at her. ‘By the way…I was only joking about the cocoa,’ he said with a grin. ‘It’s the pyjamas that I hate. I’d much prefer you in the outfit you’re wearing now.’

CHAPTER THREE

THEY were in Kirsten’s bedroom amidst chaos. The dressing table was cluttered with a wild assortment of jars, make-up and face creams, all in aid of Kirsten’s last-minute effort to look her best, and the bed was strewn with Chloe’s hairdressing equipment.

She’d planned to wear a long red dress to the première tonight. But that was when she had thought she was going with Jason. Her change of escort had thrown her into a total panic, and at the last minute she’d changed her mind about the red dress, rejecting it for being too daring. If it weren’t for Chloe’s kind offer to do her hair and help her get ready she would probably be really on the last minute by now, she thought.

‘Thanks for helping, Chloe,’ she said. ‘I did think, right up to last night, that I’d be able to get out of this ridiculous charade. I’ve tried to ring Sue Williams all week but each time I’ve been told she is unavailable and will ring me back but she never does. Of course, if it had been Cal phoning she would have snapped to attention. But Cal didn’t bother to phone her. Oh, no, Mr Cal McCormick could never be that decent. I swear he’s just going along with all this to annoy me.’

‘Hold still, for heaven’s sake!’ Chloe muttered, pushing Kirsten’s head further forward so that she could stick a few more hairgrips in the back of her hair.

‘The studio wouldn’t want to fall out with Cal. So if he had backed me up I’m sure they would have dropped the idea.’

‘Look on the bright side,’ Chloe mumbled through a mouthful of grips. ‘A lot of women would love to be seen on Cal McCormick’s arm. It won’t harm your career.’

‘No…just my mental health. I’ve had the most awful week with him at that studio, Chloe; you wouldn’t believe how irritating he can be. And tomorrow we have to go to San Francisco together, because the studio has booked us on the same flight. It’s just the last straw having to go out with him tonight as well.’

‘But you used to love him once…didn’t you?’ Chloe said softly. ‘He can’t be all bad.’

‘No…he’s not all bad,’ Kirsten admitted. She could feel her heart slamming against her chest as she thought about that question. ‘I did love him once…but it was a terrible mistake.’

‘So what were his good points?’ Chloe asked, trying to take her friend’s mind off the evening ahead.

‘I don’t know.’ Kirsten frowned; she didn’t want to think about his good points. She glanced sideways at the untidy room. ‘He was fanatically tidy.’

‘That’s not a good point.’ Chloe stuck the last of the grips in Kirsten’s hair. ‘There,’ she said with a certain amount of pleasure, ‘you can look now.’

Kirsten looked up and met her reflection in her dressing-table mirror in surprise. ‘Wow! Is that really me?’ She watched as Chloe lifted up a mirror to show her the back. She had wound her hair up into a very sophisticated chignon, which made Kirsten look extremely stylish and very feminine. ‘You’ve done a fantastic job, Chloe. Thank you. And my make-up is great too!’

‘I should have stuck to being a beautician, shouldn’t I?’ Chloe smiled. ‘At least I can make money out of that, unlike my acting career.’

Kirsten turned around to look at her friend. ‘Didn’t you get that part you auditioned for?’

Chloe shook her head. ‘I start back to work at the beauty shop next Monday.’

Kirsten regarded her sympathetically. ‘I’m so sorry, Chloe.’

Chloe shrugged. ‘I’ve got another audition tomorrow…so, who knows? I might get lucky. And at least I like my job at the beauty shop. It could be worse.’

‘Yes…like the job I got once as a singing waitress on rollerblades.’

‘I remember you telling me about that.’ Chloe laughed. ‘Was that around the time you first went out with Cal?’

‘No, I was successfully established as a singer when I first met Cal. Whereas his career in acting was just starting to take off.’

She was silent for a moment as she thought about that. ‘Things seemed so uncomplicated back then. He used to make me laugh…we had such fun together.’

‘So he did have some good points.’

‘Just a few,’ Kirsten admitted cautiously. She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘He’ll be here to pick me up soon. Are you sure I look all right?’ She stood up from the dressing table so that Chloe could run a critical eye over her.

She was wearing a long white dress with shoestring straps that crossed provocatively low on her back. The material was finest silk and it clung to her figure before falling to the floor with a side split that showed a glimpse of long leg. ‘You don’t think it’s too revealing?’

Chloe shook her head. ‘You look stunning.’ She tapped her fingers on the glossy magazines that she had brought with her into Kirsten’s room. ‘Just have a flick through these…they’re all wearing dresses like that to the premières now.’

The shrill ring of the doorbell cut through the silence of the apartment. Kirsten looked at her friend in alarm. ‘If that’s him he’s early!’

‘Keep him waiting, then,’ Chloe said, turning for the door. ‘I’ll go and let him in.’

Kirsten sat back down at the dressing table. She felt incredibly nervous, as if she had first-night jitters or something. This was a ridiculous situation, she thought angrily. Whoever had heard of being forced to date your ex-husband for publicity purposes? Hollywood was a weird place.

She heard Cal’s voice from the hallway and stared down at her hands…hands now devoid of the wedding ring she had once worn. ‘You must have loved him once.’ The words echoed through her mind.

She had thought she loved him…had thought that it was love at first sight.

They had met at a wedding. She had been a friend of the bride; he’d been a friend of the groom. She had glanced across the aisle of the church and their eyes had met. Right there and then she had fallen under his spell.

He had looked so handsome in his dark suit, and when he’d smiled at her she had felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. She remembered feeling pleased that she had been wearing a wide-brimmed hat so that she could dip her head and hide from his deeply provocative gaze.

‘Who’s that?’ she had whispered to her friend Charlotte, who had been sitting next to her. ‘No…don’t look yet…he’ll know I’m asking about him.’

Charlotte had peeped from under her own hat and then smiled. ‘That’s Cal McCormick…he’s an actor. He had a cameo role in the movie that made it big last summer. Apparently he’s very up-and-coming. According to the grapevine, definitely one to watch.’

‘I can agree with that.’ Kirsten had smiled and risked another glance across the aisle. ‘Who is he with?’ she had asked, looking at the attractive brunette by his side.

‘Maeve Ryan. She’s married to Brian Harris, the director. He’s a lot older than her, but apparently it’s been a match made in heaven as far as her acting career is concerned. I think Brian is working abroad; that’s why she’s here with Cal. They’re very good friends.’

They’d been more than just good friends, Kirsten thought angrily now. Trouble was, she had been too blind to see it, and by the time she’d woken up to the fact she and Cal had been married, and she had been seven months pregnant.

The baby wasn’t something Kirsten allowed herself to think about. It was too painful. Even now when her thoughts flitted over the subject she felt the raw thrust of emotion…a pain that had never healed.

She heard Chloe’s laughter emanating from the living room. Obviously Mr Smooth was working his charms again, she thought. She glanced at her watch and stood up. Might as well get this over with.

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